


Just another day in Texas - extra scene 'What she saw next'

by ThreeMagpies



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Gen, New Understandings, charloe - Freeform, prequel to Just another day in Texas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeMagpies/pseuds/ThreeMagpies
Summary: A Revolution fic:  Bass Monroe/Charlie Matheson, Charloe; Blackout AU set just after S2. A frustrated and bored with civilian life Bass has been sleeping his way through Willoughby trying to get a certain blue eyed, tight assed, jingle belted, opinionated blonde out of his dreams. What he doesn’t know is that Charlie has been tracking and watching him for weeks because watching him keeps her own demons at bay. He’s become her obsession.
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Just another day in Texas - extra scene 'What she saw next'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loveforthestory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveforthestory/gifts).



> Author’s note:   
> Hi there, thanks for dropping in. This is another prequel to another story of mine, ‘Just another day in Texas’ and it started out being just for fun, then turned into something a bit more. Cheers and love. Stay safe.

Charlie stared, scoping things out. This one wasn’t going to be easy. 

Monroe had moved house. Maybe he’d sensed her watching him, or sensed somebody anyway but he’d gathered his crap and early yesterday morning he’d up and moved to an old faux vintage mausoleum of a hotel on the edge of town. Damn it.

Of course she’d found him, following him as he took two girls home at once. Blondes as usual, two giggling, swaying, long legged, high heeled blondes, twining around him like vines while his hands roved over smooth skin and pliant curves… He’d been laughing, totally the charming hero of the new revolution, although when she caught a glimpse of his face, the laugh didn’t reach his eyes, in fact he’d almost looked bored.

That had been a surprise. Monroe, bored? When he could have any woman he wanted?

She shrugged, sucking back a laugh. Maybe he should give up on blondes and try a brunette, or a redhead?

Last night she hadn’t been able to figure out a way into his new hideaway, had had to wait outside till dawn made discovery too likely. Tonight would be different. 

A cool breeze came from nowhere, lifting her hair and making her shiver and for a moment she thought about giving up, going home to her own little fortress where she could make love to her whiskey bottle. Then she frowned, gritted her teeth and tied her hair back into a knot out of the way. Nope, couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let him beat her.

She’d seen him at the bar tonight with his latest blonde, knew he’d be heading back soon so she’d raced here to beat him.

The moon rose above the trees and a slow smile spread over her face as it shone on the solution to her problem. The smile widened, her dimple flashing, belly curling in anticipation. He was in her blood now, more than an obsession. She needed this. Needed the release watching him fuck other women gave her. Somehow it made her demons fade back into the shadows. Made it easier to think that what she felt for him was still hate.

For a little while anyway…   
.....................

Half an hour later as she crept in the dark through the dusty, smelly, full of old boxes, furniture, spiders and god knew what else attic space above the first floor, heading towards where he’d holed up she was almost regretting the whole thing. Almost. Especially after hitting her head for the millionth time on another stupid low hanging beam.

Then she heard voices floating up to her from somewhere down below. They were here. Monroe and the woman. The sound of high heels clicking on the concrete steps at the front of the hotel echoed up to her along with his laughter, low and confident, full of macho posturing, the sound spearing her back to Philadelphia and the first time she’d seen him. 

He was General Monroe then, tall, imposing, impossibly good looking, the boogie man threatening everyone she loved but somehow compelling. Those electric blue eyes mocking, challenging her, daring her. 

And she never could refuse a dare. 

Her body buzzing with energy and anticipation, Charlie stepped over the roof beams, brushing cobwebs out of her hair, careful of where she put her feet in case she went through the roof. It was very dark and little glowing, multi coloured phantoms kept floating in front of her eyes as her brain tried to make sense of the blackness until a real, golden glow from somewhere just ahead sent a surge of relief and satisfaction rushing through her. 

Ok. Now she had him.

The last few minutes were the hardest, keeping as quiet as possible so they didn’t hear her, her heart pounding while the lamplight glow through the slats of the ceiling vents got brighter, like a promise.

…………………….

The vent was close to the wall and lying flat out and looking down with her eyes close to the grill she could see down into the big room pretty well. it wasn't just a room though, it had a kitchen and its own bathroom. It also looked in pretty good condition considering. Charlie sucked her breath in, trying to be quiet, although making a noise didn’t seem like it was going to be that much of a problem.

The woman was singing, one of the songs doing the rounds of the town at the moment, something about a crazy train? 

Charlie nodded, appreciative. She was actually pretty good. 

Blonde hair swaying from side to side and voice low and whiskey rough she danced a long, slow shimmy around the room, full breasts creamy above the low cut dress. The fingers of one hand slid down from her throat and around her nipples in slow, lazy circles while the other hand sliding seductively all the way down to her pussy, her eyes fixed on Monroe the whole time.

He was leaning back against the door, one knee bent, narrowed eyes fixed on the woman dancing in front of him, lips curved in a smile that still didn’t reach his eyes. His arms were crossed over his broad, hard muscled chest, biceps straining the thin fabric of his shirt and one long leg was hooked over the other at the ankle. He looked relaxed but predatory, all masculine intent.

Charlie shivered as lightning shot from her belly button downwards. He was all business, all the General. Suddenly it was like she was back in that office in Philadelphia, seeing those blue eyes shooting sparks that sizzled on her skin.

‘Take your dress off.’ It was an order, harsh, demanding. 

The woman stopped singing and paused mid shimmy. Her head dipped to one side and she licked full lips, eyes wicked, one hand lifting in a lazy salute. ‘Yes sir.’ Hands reaching down to the hem of her dress, she slid the stretchy garment up and over her head, tossing it onto the floor behind her, striking a pose in high heels, a faded black lace thong and matching bra.

‘And the rest.’ His eyes slid over her curves, glinting at breasts and hip, smile hard, almost cruel.

The woman was panting, eager, the scent of female arousal filling the room. She took a step forward, slipping one bra strap then the other down over her shoulders, doing a little shimmy. ‘You’re a real take charge kind of a guy, aren’t you?’ She reached back to undo the clasp and the bra popped off, her full breasts spilling out, framed by her hair. ‘I like that.’ The bra dropped to the floor.

The heavy, spicy, alcohol sweaty smell of her floated up to Charlie’s nose, tickling like crazy. She held in a sneeze, not daring to breathe. 

Monroe shrugged then stood up straight, a hand reaching towards his belt buckle. ‘No more talking.’

The woman laughed, the sound low and husky. ‘Or what? You gonna spank me?’ She licked her lips and took another step towards him, ‘you gonna put me over your knee and do baad things to me?’

His eyes narrowed, the smile full of dark promises. He started towards her, the belt buckle clinking as it fell open. ’Maybe.’

‘Joanne?’ the voice came from outside in the hall, loud, male, furious, the sound getting closer. ‘JOANNE. What the fuck? I know you’re in there. You come on out here right now so I can kill that fucker you’re with.’ 

‘What the hell?’ Monroe froze, then glanced at her, ’Joanne? I thought you said your name was Sophie.’

Joanne shrugged, looking irritated, ‘I like Sophie.’ She reached down for her bra, slipping it back on. ’And that's my husband Carl, he was supposed to be working tonight, the lying son of a bitch, he must’ve followed us out here.’ She picked up her dress, wriggled back into it and looked around the room. ‘Is there another way out? If he finds me here, he’ll shoot you.’ 

Monroe was busy doing up his pants. He glared at her. ’Why me? It wasn’t my fault, I thought you were Sophie.’ He finished and reached for the sword belt hanging on a hook by the door.

Joanne looked sullen, ‘I just wanted some fun, what’s wrong with that? Carl works all the time and it was Saturday night.’ Her mouth drooped at the corners, ‘you’re cute and I was bored, ok?’

Charlie stared down into the room, biting her lip so hard to stop the laugh spilling out that she could taste copper. She almost felt sorry for Monroe, almost.

Monroe shook his head, heaved out a sigh and tipped his thumb to a door at the back of the room. ‘Bathroom, you can climb out the window, there’s a coal bunker just underneath.’

Joanne gave him a sour look, ‘you want me to climb out a window in this dress?’

Someone started banging on the door, hard. ‘JOANNE, I know you’re in there, don’t make me come in and get you.’

Monroe lifted an eyebrow.

Joanne sighed. ‘Alright, I guess I can manage the window.’ She turned and hurried for the bathroom, blowing him a kiss over her shoulder. ‘Better luck next time maybe?’

Monroe shrugged, and hung his sword back up by the door, lips twisted into a wry smile. ’Don’t count on it. if I didn’t have bad luck I wouldn’t have any at all.’

Charlie had a flashback to a tent in New Vegas, he’d said something like that then at the roulette wheel when he was with that other blonde, hadn’t he? She didn’t believe in luck though, good or bad. Life was what you made it. She wriggled, trying to get comfortable. Her left foot had gone to sleep and something hard was digging into her ribs.

‘JOANNE.’ The banging got louder, harder, ‘JOANNE’.

Monroe ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the bathroom. The window was open wide and the room was empty. No sign of Joanne.

He went to the front door and opened it. ’Can I help you?’ He sounded relaxed, calm and slightly irritated.

‘FUCK YOU.’ A shorter, chunky and balding man tried to shove his way into the room gun first. 

Charlie tensed, her hand moving towards her throwing knife, the weird urge to jump down and help Monroe almost overpowering. She squashed it.

He didn’t need her help anyway.

She watched carefully, going over how what he was doing in her head so she could repeat the moves later.

Somehow, Monroe had used some kind of ninja move to take possession of the gun and then Carl was face down on the ground, one arm bent up at the back with Monroe holding his wrist, kneeling on his ass and pointing the gun at his head.

Carl was slamming his free hand on the wooden floor, his face a rictus of pain, ‘I give up, I give up. Ow… Shit, I just wanted my wife.’

Monroe sat back and loosened his grip, although he didn’t let go completely. ‘Your wife isn’t here.’ 

Carl was gasping, his face purple, ‘but I followed her, I saw her come in with you.’

Monroe let go and got off the other man. ‘Maybe you did, but she’s not here now. We met at the bar, had a few drinks and she wanted to walk them off. Then she went home. Ok?’ He unloaded the gun, put the bullets in his pocket then stood up and brushed his jeans off. ‘You can get up now, Carl. I won’t hurt you.’

‘She told you about me?’ Carl twisted round so he could see but stayed on the ground.

Monroe scratched his scruff. ’Yeah, she said you were at work and she was bored,’ He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees. ‘I’ll give you a bit of free advice, Carl. You need to stop working so much and spend more time with your wife.’

‘Ok. Yeah, I’ll do that.’ Carl was nodding so much it looked like his head was loose. ‘Thanks, man.’ He struggled to his feet, looking embarrassed. ‘Sorry about all the yelling.’ 

‘No problem, Carl,’ Monroe held out the gun, grip first, ‘here, I think this is yours.’

………………………….

Charlie didn’t know why she stayed after it was all over, she just did. Monroe had surprised her, being nice to Carl even though the guy was a total jerk and not giving Joanne away either even though she’d lied about everything. It wasn’t what she’d expected from him. She’d work it out though, just had to keep following him and sooner or later she’d figure him out.

Once Carl left, Monroe had locked the door, shut the bathroom window and taken a piss. After that, he got a bottle of whiskey from a box in the small galley kitchen and was sitting on an old leather couch in the corner of the room, drinking his way through the bottle and staring at an old broadsheet he’d pulled out of his pocket. 

He looked kind of tired, even sad. The same look she remembered from a campfire a long time ago. She hadn’t believed it back then but a hell of a lot had happened since and now she wasn’t quite so sure.

She squinted at the broadsheet, trying to see, but it was just at the wrong angle, if he’d just move a tiny bit? 

As if he’d heard her, he dropped the sheet onto the seat next to him.

She stared at the crinkled, torn bit of paper. Tonight was full of surprises, it was the leaflet about Philadelphia and the bombs. He’d kept it all this time.

She watched as he tossed back the last of the whiskey, got up, turned the lamps off and walked only slightly unsteadily over to the big bed in the corner of the room. He stripped off his shirt and pants before falling onto the mattress and the moonlight coming through the windows bleached his hair and outlined the long, strong body in shadows and light, making him look like some ancient work of art. 

A sculpture made of stone, beautiful but sad.

Charlie stared at him, not sure what she was feeling. She had the weirdest urge to go and wrap her arms round him, do something to take that sadness away.

She didn’t do it though. Instead she waited until his breathing settled into the long, slow rhythms of sleep. 

Then she left.

………………………….

.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: There, I hope you enjoyed that, it pretty well leads straight into ‘Just another day in Texas’ so if you haven’t read that, Charlie does find out more about Monroe, and they end up helping each other…
> 
> Anyway, there might be more stories sometime, who knows, but stay safe and well and thanks again for reading xx Magpie


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